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 My blog was filled up. I'm too lazy to clean it out. So I started a new one. |
| Everyone remembers the "good ol' days". Mention them and people will nod their heads or go "Uh, huh". But whether we're thinking along the same lines depends on the ages to whom we are speaking. We had childhood or young adulthood in different decades, and our memories go back to whatever was a simpler time for us. The truth is our memories blur out all but the most painful memories. The good old days were never all that great. We were in better shape and had more energy. Our dreams were still alive and we were still driven to succeed at whatever was our course in life. Whether you are 25 or 75, you have pleasant memories of what seems like better days. We didn't have cell phones or "911" when I was young. Medicine has improved greatly. Just this year I had a difficult but innovative surgery that wasn't even dreamed of ten years ago. In some ways the "good days" are now. We have computers, widespread air-conditioning, life saving drugs, improved food storage, better cameras, more entertainment for kids. Agriculture techniques and tools have improved. Machinery is faster and more complicated (harder to maintain). Minimum wages have increased. Some of the old things have gone away. We don't take in family members who are down on their luck or getting sick or old. My grandmother always had someone staying with her. My own parents took in a great aunt, never married who lived alone in the country. She was a nanny to us kids while Mom cooked and cleaned. We don't have a daily newspaper any longer. Play areas are now businesses. Fishing areas are off limits today in many spots. Some things are gone and I'm glad. When I was young, there were people with outhouses inside the city limits. That was on the white streets. A black friend told me her family had indoor toilets but open sewers that ran along the streets. You had to walk in the street, no sidewalk, and balance across wooden planks to get into your own yard. It always smelled bad. Those were not part of the good old days. In my town, the Jews were a welcome part of the town. The foreigners were Italians or Greeks and ran the restaurants. Only occasionally did you encounter an Oriental, like the Filipino I worked with in high school. Now 16% of the city population are from other nations. That's neither good nor bad, just different. What makes them the "good old days" is our fading memory. We get beset by the weight of world affairs, financial difficulties, relationship troubles, and we want to go back in our minds to a time when we had fewer worries, less concern, no deadlines or bills to pay. Our perspective, negative or positive, taints our memories, too. Perhaps, any time we are still alive and free, those are the good days. |
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